The Current Supreme

You can’t tell him – what if it got back you snuck away from your stepmother? She’d have you sweeping that damn chimney for the rest of your existence.

Your pulse rushes in your ears, stepping just a little closer, knowing you're probably terrible at pretending to really be nobility, or any sort of lady, feeling the heat of his palm through your satin gloves. "I'm... um, just a guest."

"Every guest has a name," he says, his gaze drifting down to the little chain on your neck curiously, his hand falling off. "Tell me, what brings someone so lovely to hide in the gardens rather than dance?"

"I'm afraid I cannot dance," Satoru blinks curiously, the way the moonlight hits your face and bounces off that silver mask has him almost blushing, the rise and fall of your chest in that snug corset, your own faint blush heating up your skin - out of every girl tonight, you're just...

Different.

"Cannot dance? Nonsense," he smirks and holds out a hand now, tilting his head. "I'll teach you."

"N-no! I'm utterly unteachable... I... oh!" Satoru tugged you in his arms, and you fell against his hard chest, a hand on that elegant blue uniform he's wearing. "Prince Gojo..."

"Call me Satoru."

“Oh I could not ever,” you are panicking being this close to him, his heat, his hard chest so strong as you stumble and damn near trip over your feet. “I’m stepping all over you!”

“It’s fine,” you could literally walk on Satoru and he’d just thank you, with those pretty glass slippers that click gently as you move. He picks you up and grins as you gasp out. “I’ve got you.”

“You cannot just…” he’s lifted you off the ground now so that your feet are on his, moving and guiding you with a little chuckle. “I’ll hurt your feet!”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he’s more than fine – Satoru thinks he’s fucking in love at first sight.

The nonsense of fairytales, but how else does he explain how perfect your corseted waist feels in his arms? How you’re looking at him and making him melt? Satoru’s in love with a girl and he doesn’t even know her name. Perhaps it’s the champagne and how pretty you are, perhaps his advisor Suguru was right and Satoru was a dreamer.

Yet you’re like a dream waltzing rather clumsily on his feet.

He finally manages to speak, to act like any of this is normal, his lips quirking up at the corner. "You're a natural, see?"

"I'm just standing on your feet!” You’re giggling though, the sound and your smile making him ache. He can only wonder how beautiful you were without half of your face covered, even more pretty than those eyes and those lips?

Yet it’s more, something about you drawing him in, he tightens his hold on you, your body pressed to his, clearing his throat as he tries to focus.

Tonight was supposed to be ‘the end’ so to speak – find a boring, perfect debutante for his bride, he had been dreading it for months, yet all he can think of right now is how much he is enjoying being in this garden with you.

"Details."

“No? Actual facts?”

“Semantics, sweetheart,” you laugh again, shaking your head.

“You’re nothing like I’d think a Prince to be.”

“Is that good or bad?” He asks, stopping his movements and easing you off his feet, not releasing you, no, he’s got you firm against him still. The music from the ballroom is fading, just a little hazy in both of your ears, intermingling with his soft chuckle and your little pleased sigh.

“It’s good, very good,” you can’t say it – that you are so wary of nobility because of your step mother, because you’re hidden merely because your mother was a mistress rather than a wife. “You’re just… different.”

“I could say that about you,” his lashes lowered just a bit, hand on the small of your back sliding up where it’s bare, ever so scandalously. "I think we've earned a break from the lesson, yes?”

You manage a little nod, swallowing nervously as Satoru’s silk gloved hand slides from your back to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling gently in the hair that’s coiffed and pinned. He tilts your head back gently, having you meet his gaze, your own hands sliding to his chest, hidden by the alcove so that you’re just out of sight.

If you’re going to have one night of freedom, shouldn’t it be a good one?

How can you think like this!

"You're blushing again," he murmurs, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Even your ears are warm. Is it the dancing, or is it me?"

You can't form a coherent thought, let alone any sort of words for an answer, just looking up at him and wetting your lips nervously, tongue slipping over the plump of your lower one.

“Asked you a question, princess.”

“Oh I’m so far from that,” you whisper, he chuckles as he thinks to himself how your hips would give him perfect heirs, how he’d love those lips to be glossy from his saliva rather than anything else.

“Every girl here wants to be the next princess,” he says, nose brushing yours as he bends down. “Not you, though.”

“Not me…”

Gong. Gong. Gong.

“Oh!” You look at the giant clock ticking overhead, enormous and pristine, loudly echoing in your ears. “It’s almost midnight. I should… go.”

“A curfew?” He asks, even more curious, nobles party until well into the morning, but you’re leaning up now, hugging him around his neck, making him falter.

“Thank you for tonight, Satoru,” god how your name sounds on his lips, pressing a kiss on his cheek and pausing, a breath away from the corner of his mouth. He tilts your chin up, studying you carefully.

“Running away already?”

“I must soon…” You trail off and look right at his lips, sighing. “Perhaps one minute more.”

“May I kiss you, before you disappear?” He asks then, you nod quickly, seeing the lashes casting shadows on his high cheeks as he bends down, closing the distance and capturing your lips.

The first press of his lips is impossibly soft, a tentative movement that he pulls back from quickly, exhaling, the breath ghosting over your mouth, grip tightening as he paints soft kisses against them. You whine out before you can stop yourself, making him moan and pause for just a moment.

“Oh I’ve… never kissed…”

“I’m your first kiss?” He asks softly, you nod and tug him down again, making him chuckle. “Did you like it, princess?”

“I do very much,” he kisses you again, his tongue slipping on the seam of your lips as if it’s seeking entry, tasting of champagne and something sweet – scones, you think, the mixture hypnotic somehow.

Your first kiss is with Prince Gojo.

You both stumble a bit until you fall onto him in the gardens, he lands on his back with a soft thud on the grass. You’re gasping as you lose your balance, Satoru chuckles as he catches you on his body, holding you tightly, lips pulled into a full grin that makes him look even more handsome.

“Hmm, I’d like to see you without this mask.”

“Sir you’re very bold,” he raises a brow, hands on your hips – god imagine kissing you between your thighs, holding them firm?

“Says the lady on my lap.”

“Oh, you’re a tease!” You lean up and his eyes are glittering , leaning up on his elbows and nuzzling your nose with his. “Mngh…”

“The sounds you make,” he whispers, you’re straddling him with your skirts strewn all across you, heat pressing on his length, you probably don’t even know what it is but you grind on it, making him hiss. “Just from a kiss, I wonder how you’d sound if I kissed you here.”

His lips press on the rushing pulse behind your ear, you’re rolling those hips once more, fingers entangled in his silky locks, his breath sending trembles across you, the whine that escapes your lips almost makes him lose it.

“Fuck…”

“Oh dear, I’m so-”

“Don’t move, god,” he moans and grips you rougher than he meant to, arching up as he kisses up the side of your neck, lips drifting over your frantic, racing little pulse, your nails press into his shoulders, holding still as his breath ghosts your collarbone, fingertips brushing across your neckline.

“It feels so good,” you can’t help but move again, making him suck in a breath, kissing you deeper, your arms wrapping his neck as your tongue slips in and out of his mouth, exhaling as you move with him, feeling this need building inside that has you hot, dizzy. “Satoru…”

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips glossy from your kisses, sighing and cupping your face gently. “Stay. I’ll tell your chaperones.”

Chaperones.

As if you had those.

“I cannot…”

“We will pause,” he says, barely holding onto his last thread, eyes looking up at the pretty masked girl sitting on his lap, sitting up fully and studying you carefully. “I must know more about you, anything… especially your name-”

Gong Gong Gong.

“I’m so sorry,” you stumble off his lap, questioning yourself then – hearing your stepmother and stepsisters in your head making fun of you.

As if you fit in?

Tonight was an insane idea, one your fellow servants had for you, these glittery slippers and your mother’s old gown weighing heavy as you stand, almost stumbling as your heel digs into the earth. The Prince stands with you, steadying you with a hand on your upper arm, his lips parted.

“There’s nothing interesting about me,” you whisper, tears slipping and glimmering in your eyes.

“I find that impossible to believe.”

You smile, lips trembling, before kissing his cheek, your own lashes closing, sticky droplets of tears falling from them. You murmur your name for his ears, before rushing away, holding onto your dress as you ascend the narrow steps towards the ballroom, hearing him call it out.

“Don’t go! Please, just…” You turn and he can’t see your face then, not with the lighting of the ballroom as your background, casting a shadow of your figure.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you turn once more, Satoru rushes up the stairs then, pausing when he sees a glinting bauble on the step by his dress shoe. He picks it up, studying it carefully, his gaze flickering to where you’ve completely disappeared.

Your name was not familiar, it was not a family he’d ever heard of, a name he’d ever heard either.

Just who were you?

*****

“Hurry, miss, hurry!” Your fellow servants are rushing to undress you from the big gown as your carriage, rickety and loud, has made it just before your step family.

“Turn!” You do just that and let them unlace the back of it in quick little motions, the fellow women studying you once they put back on your maid attire.

“Miss, did you…”

“I um…” You’re blushing now, giggling as if you’re intoxicated from that sip of champagne, nodding.

“You kissed!” You shush one of them, even though the three of you are breathlessly laughing. “Tell us, tell us!”

“He was so handsome, so sweet,” you sigh, all dreamy, looking in the mirror and smoothing your apron down your front, touching your ear then. “Oh dear, I lost one of mama’s earrings!”

“She would have wanted you to have fun,” you get emotional then, as they fix up your hair – they still take care of you when they can, remembering how things were before your father remarried, when you were the lady of the house despite the mother you had not being ‘nobility’.

Your mother – all you have is a little photo of her in a locket.

“Was she kind, mama? Would she…” You swallow just a bit. “Like me?”

“Of course she would, miss,” they turn to you then, trying to cheer you up. “Who kissed the lipstain off.”

You blush furiously, before leaning over to whisper. “A prince.”

“A prince!?”

“Shh!” You hear it then, the hooves of the horses on the cobblestone path, turning your head to peer right back at the noise, the one earring you have left firmly in your palm. “We must act normal… but…”

“But?” You turn to them and your eyes well up with emotions, taking each of their hands.

“It was the best night of my life.”

*****

“This earring,” Satoru smiles days later as he has tea across from several young ladies – four daughters in one family, all matching your height and some of your features. He assesses them carefully, searching for any sign of you – since the name you gave him existed in no public records.

Where was the masked girl with the one earring?

“It’s mine!” One girl exclaims, giggling and standing. “It must be mine, your highness.”

“Ah, I see,” he stands and walks over, peering into her eyes, hoping for anything to click like it did before – it had been dark out, was he mistaking this? Was it really you? “Where’s the matching?”

She falters then, and her sisters are laughing at her. “I um… your highness, as it were… I do not…”

“I see…” He finishes his tea and bows at the giggling ladies, smiling all charming like he’s not losing his mind. “Farewell, for now, dear ladies.”

He’s furious when he slams the carriage door, his advisor Suguru looking up from the ledgers he’s balancing while waiting for the prince. His dark eyes take Satoru in carefully. “You look like shit.”

“Aw thanks, Suguru,” he snorts and Satoru climbs in across from him, earring flipped over and over in his palm. “That’s every woman her height and hair color aside from one house – out of twenty nearly. And nothing.”

“What was it about her?” Suguru asks. “To make you announce you’re looking for a bride and all? It’s so unlike you.”

“I can’t tell you it’s…” Satoru touches his lip thoughtfully, spreading those long legs in the carriage bench, the plush velvet brushing his elegant tailcoat as it begins to rock towards the last stop. “It’s everything about her.”

“Is the prince in love at first sight?” Suguru is teasing, but when he sees Satoru’s glare he pauses. “Oh fuck… it is?”

“I don’t know what else this is, this feeling in my heart,” he clutches it over his dress shirt, staring out the pretty countryside view as they start to move towards the last hope. “I can’t describe it at all, but I must have her, I must know her… I cannot even think of another woman when she exists in this world.”

Suguru is quiet then.

“Who knew the rakish prince would fall so in love so quickly?”

“Shut it,” Suguru’s serious then, pulling up the information on the last house and studying it. “Who are they?”

“A widow and her two step daughters… some servants live there as well, but of course they wouldn’t be the ones you met. Maybe one of them is it?”

“We shall see…”

“Satoru?” He raises a brow. “If you don’t find her, what will you do?”

He laughs a bit, leaning his head back and throwing a forearm over his face, sinking against the seat and descending himself into darkness, picturing you so clearly. Running away from him even in his dreams, like he can never actually capture you.

“I don’t know if I can ever look at someone like that again.”

It’s quiet then.

“Well, I hope you’ll find her.”

*****

“The prince is coming!” Your stepmother rushes up to you and yanks your hair, making you cry out. “Make yourself good, girl! Now! Tea, chop chop!”

“Ouch,” you whine out when she smacks your cheek. “S-sorry…”

“Do not talk back!”

“I was not-”

“She’s become such a nuisance,” one of your sisters complains, donned in an obscenely gaudy pink gown, jeweled slippers that you’d worn that night, you pale when you see them.

“Those were my mother’s! You can’t have them!”

“Those were my mothers!” She’s mocking you, making hot tears prick the back of your eyes. “The prince is coming for me, you’ll let me wear them, you nor your mother was never worthy of such luxury.”

You almost smack her, knowing it’s a death sentence or at least a prison sentence to do so, feeling sick as the three women laugh.

“No, he’s coming for me!” Your other stepsister is wearing bright yellow, donned with the hairclip your mother left. “I couldn’t find those earrings of yours!”

“Why are you in my things when you have everything!?” They laugh again at your pain, your tears, always cruel without reason.

Why did you even go, why did you glimpse happiness when they were your reality?

“He’s here, shh!” Your stepmother and siblings stand in front of you now, blocking the view of the Prince being greeted, his dress shoes clicking on the hardwood beneath him. Your heart hammers in your chest as you stand there with your head down, your family making a spectacle of themselves.

“Your highness! Indeed, what an honor,” your mother is putting on the charm, but Satoru’s eyes are on you, a frown on his lips. “What do we owe the great pleasure of your visit?”

He sees the mark on the pretty servant’s cheek and glares at the woman now, the matriarch of the family scowling at you. “Please forgive us, we will leave her and retire to the-”

“You hit your help?” He asks, fists clenching underneath those white satin gloves, she blinks in confusion.

“Well, of course I do. She is quite-”

“You hit your fucking help, really?”

“Is it against any law, your highness?” She asks, raising a brow, Satoru grimaces in disgust, walking up to you, earning the caught breath of every servant, and the anger of your ‘family’.

“No it’s not, yet the thought of treating others like that disgusts me,” he peers down at you, tilting your chin up right in front of the room, your heart hammers so violently in your chest you feel dizzy. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

Your knees go weak, the sudden sting of your cheek fading into nothing, not when he’s looking at you that way, you can hardly hold in your words – Satoru, it’s me.

You cannot let him know you impersonated a noble, he’s just being… kind, surely. 

“I am fine, your highness,” your voice puts it all together for him then, and in that moment the world shrinks – to just you and Satoru Gojo.

Not just a prince, but the boy you kissed in those gardens.

“Is this yours?” He asks quietly, taking the earring out and watching your expression, hearing their huffs of anger.

“You snuck into the ball!? You little tramp!” Your stepsister shouts, stomping on over when Satoru holds up a hand, halting her in her steps, watching as you tug the other earring out of your little reticule, a trembling hand being touched by his.

“You will be executed for such a travesty!” Your mother says, but Satoru scoffs, simply sliding the hook of the earring through the little spot they were pierced when you were just a little babe. He takes the other but not before studying your hand, covered in callouses, rubbed raw from scrubbing.

“Do not look, please,” you whisper, embarrassed that he has to see them – the nails nonexistent, the skin dry and cracking. He takes off his own glove and sets the other earring on, before he touches your hand, taking it and flipping it over, studying it carefully. “Please…”

“You shall never work these hands like this again,” you gasp at that, letting him take both of them in his own, the touch and warmth of his skin making you dizzy. “I promise you that you won’t…”

He says your name, softly then, smiling all bright as you break out into tears, holding you against him. “Prince Satoru…”

“God I looked all over for you,” he whispers, hand on the small of your back, your clothes are so old they’re falling apart, you seem almost frail to him like this, weak and worn down, not the happy girl he met.

Yet he knows it then, surely.

He did fall in love at first sight.

“What do you think about becoming my princess?”

“I could never! I…”

“Come,” he picks you up like it’s nothing, carrying you right out of there, you cling to his neck as he cradles you and your stepmother rushes up. 

“Surely I will get some compensation!” Your stepmother earns Satoru’s disgust as he looks upon her. “She was my late husband’s illegitimate offspring, I took her in when I did not have to! Fed her, clothed her, gave her shelter.”

“You did a fucking horrible job of all of it, if you ever loved your husband, how could you do this? This is why I hate nobility like you,” he clutches you tightly, feeling your face bury against his neck. “I’ll compensate you plenty to leave my kingdom, all of you, forever. Handsomely in fact. But you’ll never go near her again.”

“Satoru, you don’t have to!” You’re whispering, trembling in fear, but he ignores it all, shaking his head.

“I will make sure you have a nicer home than this, and dowries,” your stepmother quickly agrees, and that’s the last time you see her, or your stepsisters again. “Let us go visit your new home.”

*****

“They called you that, because you sat by the fireplace too much?” Satoru asks you softly weeks later, you all were having dinner but you’ve stayed in your own wing of his castle, he’s making sure that everything is properly done – the wedding a few more weeks away.

“They did,” you admit, holding his hand and blushing as he leans forward, studying it. “It’s still rough, Satoru.”

“That’s quite alright,” he kisses your knuckles then, his lips curving up in a sad smile. “I shall make sure that you never lift a pretty finger.”

“Nonsense!”

“No, you must stop helping clean and cook, too,” you shake your head, earning his smile widening. “Are you not listening to your prince?”

“Old habits die hard, at least let me bake with them! What else shall I do all day long!?”

“You’re a bratty girl,” you giggle, shaking your head and standing, walking over as he tugs you on his lap, sitting sideways, his fingers trailing across your knee, sliding that robe apart. “Very bratty.”

“Me, no indeed,” you are aching to do more, but Satoru has been very gentlemanly – so much in fact you find yourself moving on his lap in such a way that has his lashes fluttering closed. “Are you all right, my prince?”

“You’re killing me, perhaps you’re an evil girl after all,” your smile ruins him, along with the way goosebumps rise up your thigh. “Trying to tempt me before the marriage, hmm? No, no, we do it all properly – you’re my bride to be.”

“I can wait, I suppose,” your fingertips trail across his cheek, laughing softly then at his blush that dances across them. “Can you wait?”

“Indeed I have my methods,” jerking off to you every night after kissing you in front of your bedroom door. “Can you, pretty girl?”

“No,” you’re honest then, gasping as his fingers dart higher, your thighs spreading slightly as if on instinct. “Satoru…”

“Such an impatient girl, tsk,” he glides them higher until they find your cunt bare, already slick underneath the satin of your robes, feeling you shift and cry out in the way only you can. “Shall I have you cum all over my fingers, then? Give you just a taste of what I’ll do to you when you’re fully mine?”

“Oh, mngh y-you… please…” He kisses you as his fingers find your slit, gliding up and down and feeling that wetness just pour, moaning at the feeling, you’re damn near slippery with a gentle touch at your entrance, your tongue moving against his with much more precision than the first kiss.

“Please what, princess? Make you feel good?” Your nod is jerky, your nails pressing into his forearm and feeling it tense as he slides a finger in – making your eyes roll back in your skull. “You’re doing such a good job, look at you.”

“Am I? It’s so thick and… Satoru,” he’s curving one finger just so in your snug little hole, squishing so loud it fills your ears, mixing with his kisses on your collarbone, his nose brushing your skin. “Please!”

“Mhm, take a pretty tit out for me,” he orders softly, in the way only Prince Satoru can, you tug it down and blush when he sees your tit for the first time. “Oh god but you’re s’fuckin beautiful.”

Your answer is to arch your back, your head falling so that your hair cascades across his arm that’s wrapping you, his finger working as that mouth wraps a nipple and sucks. It is too much, the way he sucks, the way his finger moves faster, until you’re about to shatter, to fall apart right for him, his finger hitting that spot that has your vision getting fuzzy.

He moans around your nipple, tongue swirling it – his blue eyes looking up underneath those long white lashes at you, feeling your cunt stretch enough that he eases in a second.

“So full! I’m so… ah!” He pulls back from your nipple, his saliva dripping with strings dissolving from your tit, sighing and nuzzling your breast, kissing back up to your collarbone, his fingers making your cunt quiver. She clamps down as you get closer, feeling that pressure, the grinding of his fingers on that spot.

“You’re close, hmm?” He teases softly, smiling all proud of himself and fucking cute – he was proud he could make you feel good, that he could feel the way you’re reacting, see the pleasure on your face. “You’re so loud, your pussy is making such a mess, too.”

“You’re… I…” You feel it coming, overwhelming in its intensity then, stealing your breath as his fingers work faster, until you’re right there.

“That’s it, let go for me,” he whispers, pressing up on that spongy spot in your wall with his fingertips, massaging it as you shatter. “There you go, good little princess, cumming just for me.”

“Satoru, ngh!” You scream out obscenely, cunt squirting right down his hand and making a mess of his pants, of your silk robe, darkening the material as you fall apart in his arms, weak and almost falling on him. “S’good I… sensitive and… Satoru, I l-love you and…”

He pauses then, exhaling and kissing you deeply, easing his fingers out of the mess you are. “You love me, princess?”

You’re almost in tears. You feel so good, nodding quickly, watching as he sucks his long fingers, blushing furiously – your cunt is pulsing around nothing, seeing his cheeks hollow during the filthy little action. “You’re tasting me!”

“So sweet,” he mumbles, drunk off a lick, pulling back to see his fingers glossy and moaning at the sight, his eyes dark. “I can’t wait to really drink you.”

“Drink me?” He chuckles at how precious you are, tugging down your slip and holding you close, kissing your temple as you come down. “Satoru, that was so intense I just… I…”

“Are you all right? Too much?” He brushes your hair back, feeling your lips on his neck.

“Not enough.”

“Slutty princess,” you gasp and smack him when he chuckles, pulling back and cupping your chin, smiling at you. “I love you too.”

“You love me?”

“Of course I do, the moment I saw you in that garden,” you can’t stop the tears from falling, chest heaving as the aftershocks mix with your emotions. “Now don’t be so impatient, we have forever.”

You nod and kiss him again, and again, and again, until he carries you in his arms towards your bed. “I can’t wait to share the bed with you, my Prince.”

“Soon enough.” He lays you in it and kisses you, studying you carefully, brushing a lock of your hair back.

Satoru was only an eligible bachelor for one day – and now he has his happily ever after lightly snoring in her bed, murmuring his name.

Perhaps being the prince wasn’t so bad if he got you by his side.

every time you die and fall victim to the reactions that man wants to drag out of you, you wonder why you're still playing—why you choose shooting aimlessly over something with real emotional depth, something that made you think instead of frying your brain.

story games have always been your 'thing.' so just how did you manage to rack up 83 hours on a shitty 3rd person shooter game with no plot whatsoever?

the answer turns out to be quite simple really, you gained a newfound love for competition from it.

after having replayed cyberpunk 2077 five times, trying out every character in borderlands 3 and hunting down achievements in assassins creed valhalla, you had come to the conclusion that it was time for something new.

off to the wasteland of the 'filter low to high' page you went. it's not like you wanted to, there's so many games you still haven't got the chance to play—but $80 for a game? in this economy? no chance. you figured you'd simply have to wait a year or so before you could afford to see leon kennedy's face again.

you watched the cover art of countless games blur together, haphazardly scrolling looking for something to try out. a shiver went down your spine when you ended up stumbling across genshin impact, it was the first ( and last ) gacha game you had ever played.

the story was alright for the most part, if you hadn't lost your last 50/50 you would most likely still be playing.

in the end it turned out to be both a blessing and a curse, as that's what made you stop and take a closer look at the game next to it.

the art style is what drew you in, it reminded you of the lalaloopsy dolls you used to play with as a kid—only there was a few small differences..

they were creepier, stitches that were still healing around the eyes where buttons had been sewn, detached limbs, some looked like sid from toy story got a hold of them.

it was messy, there were all kinds of dolls on the cover—boy dolls, girl dolls, animal dolls, inhuman dolls. the developers could do well with a different graphic designer.

despite the eyesore of the overwhelming amount of yarn blending together on the screen, you gave it a chance; 'RAGSHOT' downloaded with the simple click of a button.

that click would turn out to be the reason all your hair is about to turn grey and fall off, like a timelapse of a flower wilting.

the conniving bastards voice comes in over your speakers, "didn't see that one coming, did you?"

his doll doesn't fit the color scheme of the game one bit—it's too light compared to the darker aesthetic. the white hair blinds you, and the fact he chose the glowing blue for the buttons tells you all you need to know.

"didn't see that one coming diid youu?!" you repeat back in a high pitched tone, watching the time at the top of the screen go down slowly—theres only 4 minutes until the next round, enough time to plan out how you'll sneak up on him.

your mic has been forcefully muted since you died, so you can't continue going back and forth with him to your hearts content. being someone with the attention span of a 5 year old, you pull out your phone and open tiktok.

man raving about 'traditional women.' — not interested.

news. — you would have watched it on tv if you cared.

some OF model clickbaiting. — you can get porn for free literally anywhere else.

clip of hot streamer talking to his chat. he's playing ragshot, cool, finally something you don't have to force yourself to sit through.

"i'll get her on stream one day, and if i don't i'll gift chat 100 subs." he looks kinda familiar, maybe like a real life version of a cartoon character.

" 'do you even have her as a friend ' " he laughs at the message, "you know i actually don't, i somehow keep finding her in every lobby."

right, so theres clearly some sort of lore here you aren't aware of.

it's still managed to peak your interests within about 7 seconds, and you find yourself scrolling through the comments trying to piece together information.

hold on.

why is your username in every comment?!

no, this can't be right—your brain is just messing with you. some other girl probably has a similar username—why would they be talking about you?!

your finger quickly swipes right to check out the page, tapping on the most recent video.

it opens with your voice, "STOOP TARGETING MEEE!!" a clip of one of the many times he's pushed you to your limit.

"you're just an easy kill." he chuckled while continuously firing at you.

this is really you in the video. having a temper tantrum for hundreds of thousands of people to see—and THIS is the guy you've been straining your vocal cords over?!?

sorta wish they were being strained for a different reason.

that's besides the point, you need to get these mortifying videos wiped off the internet.

you've got quite the recognisable voice and aren't too keen on people you know in real life hearing you get this worked up over a video game.

doesn't help that there's tons of evidence, the videos of you raging go on and on—if you can't get them taken down you should be entitled to a portion of the money he's made from you.

you've become almost like a celebrity within his fanbase, all of his most popular posts are some form of you raging. as you scroll through them and pay no mind to the active round his voice can be heard through your headphones resting on your shoulders, "pay attentionnn.."

you look back up to your screen and see that he's killed you. again. what a shock.

not like you were planning on playing another round after all this anyway, you'll be heading straight to twitch to watch his live reaction when you confront him.

you're on his instagram in no less than a minute seeing as it's linked to the tiktok page, and typing out a very angry DM even faster.

6:55PM: TAKE THPSE CLIPS DOWN OR YOU WONT B.STREAMINF AGAIN

you don't bother fixing the spelling mistakes in hopes that they'll further communicate your feelings.

it's all making you feel very stalker-y, his virtual doll was just shooting at yours, and in just a few minutes you've got his insta opened on your phone and his twitch stream up on your computer—especially with the way you're watching his phone buzz and seeing him reading the message in real time.

you expect that he'll be able piece together that it's you given that you use the same username for everything, what you don't expect however, is that he reads it out to his audience with a big happy smile on his face.

"chat, she found me." it only makes you angrier that he doesn't refer to you by name, just says 'she' and everyone automatically knows who he's talking about.

"she says to delete the videos or i won't be streaming again," he cackles like it's funny, "what do i say?"

his chat immediately goes wild, tons of messages flooding in all at once—while you read every single one, only a few stick out to him.

ihateportals: is she hot show us the insta

shakabrah420: say L bozo plzz

28stabwounds: yoo get her on stream

"i'm not telling you psycho's her insta but.." he trails off, disinterested in the countless pleads from his chat and more interested in you—the phone isn't the only thing that lights up his face.

he also seems to forget he's still on stream and becomes completely engrossed in your photos.

glory2arstotzska donated $5.00 - whys he lagging

the donation makes him jump and he comes to his senses—clearing his throat, he chokes out, "yeah, yeah she's..i'll get her on stream."

no chance. the whole reason you're texting him in the first place is to remove yourself from the whole situation, what makes him think you'll show your face on his stream?

6:58 : come on stream and i will

looks like he's bold enough to actually send the text too, just hilarious isn't he? why would you ever—

6:58 : i'll pay u

well.. you have been eating nothing but struggle meals for the past 2 weeks so you'll take what you can get. you can get back to playing real games with that money too, so win-win..?

after an excruciating long and boring conversation where you two exchanged information about the stream and whatnot, you found out that he lived only a half an hour away from you, so all this time you could've beat him up whenever you felt like it.

it was also entirely your fault that the conversation was so boring, you refused to make small talk or be decent to him in general. half of your brain still held a grudge and the other half had the 'nice guys finish last' mentality.

you'd be lying if you said a part of why you agreed wasn't for the chance to bang him. it's either that or take your frustrations out on him a different way—with a belt or your bare hands.

maybe you'll let yourself be greedy and do both.

on the way over your uber driver wouldn't stop talking, which for once was a good thing. your nerves were through the roof and listening to her blabber on about whatever passenger from hell she had before you took your mind off of the whole ordeal.

it wasn't as awkward as you had expected, when you arrived you hid your unease by bantering with him and eventually put up the facade for so long that your anxiety had waned in.

he took some time to show you around his place and offered you some food before the stream started, to which you declined, afraid that you would throw it right back up in front of him.

now you sit in beside him a spare chair he found laying around. the hard part of starting the stream and letting the viewers have their fun is already out of the way, now you're letting him do all the work.

he didn't make the connection that you might not have been so good for clip farming in real life as you are behind a video game character, but his chat was very happy to see you anyways. almost a little too happy.

you're idly twirling with a strand of your hair, feeling extremely bored with the same things being said over and over, "stream her going to anger management," some form of "shes hot," and "they r 100% cracking after this." while they're repetitive, the last one gets an idea to pop up in your head.

"hey, satoru."

"yeah?" he takes his eyes off the game to look at you, "i'm gonna go use the bathroom, its that door there, right?" you point toward the slightly ajar door only a few feet away from you.

"mhm, go ahead." he responds, none the wiser.

from the way he's been looking at you ever since you stepped inside the house, you're able to gauge that he wouldn't be opposed to the idea of you giving him a blowjob under his desk. what a way to liven things up, right? enough of you being the laughingstock, it's his turn!

his bathroom door clicks shut and you aimlessly walk around in circles for about 30 seconds or so while doing a few throat exercises, hoping he actually is into you and you aren't imagining things that lead you to embarrass yourself.

when satisfied, you quietly open the door and waltz back over. making sure you're out of view from the camera you—THUMP!—drop to your knees.

it catches him off guard, he looks over at you with nothing but a startled expression and confusion in his eyes—only when you start crawling under the desk does he start to catch on.

bolognaincident donated $5.00 — wtf was that? she fall in the toilet??

"uhh, earthquake." trying to make it as subtle as possible, he acts as if he's aimlessly fidgeting around on his chair to 'get a bit of blood flow going' as he plays, when he's really making room for you to get under the desk.

once you're as cozied up as you can be in the dark and cramped space, you rest one arm on his knee and use the other to pump the air, prodding your tongue against your cheek in time with your fist.

despite him already having a clear idea of what you were going to do, the motion still makes his eyes widen and a lump form in his throat.

doesn't take you long to grow tired of your little 'show' and raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for any indication that he'll let you suck him off on stream.

he gives you a sly nod which is all you need to get started. you waste no time and hook your fingers into the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down and eyeing his bulge. his huge bulge.

there's no way you're fitting all of him down your throat, but it's too late to go back now.

you palm him through his boxers as he mumbles something to the viewers about whatever strategy he's using. unsatisfied with his lack of reaction you apply more pressure while staring up at him, waiting for something.

fine. you make quick work of pulling down his boxers and letting his cock spring free—it slaps against his stomach, the veins bulging from it give you a clear path on where to lick. you also take notice that he shaved for you, cute.

the feeling of you licking a long stripe from base to tip has his dick twitching, he grips extra hard on the mouse and nearly breaks the thing when you take him in fully.

your lips stretch around the soft flesh as you watch his body tense up—he's utterly failing in his act to be as normal as possible, not acknowledging his audience one bit as he pours all his focus into attempting to regulate his breathing and keep his face still.

tahitiancowboy2 donated $5.00 — i think she snuck out u got no game loll

he so badly wishes he could retort by simply standing up and showing everyone that you've got his dick in your mouth, but unfortunately for him he's forced to swallow his pride.

"d-dunno what girls do in there. maybe she's—" he's cut off by you tightly wrapping your two hands around the base to make up for where your throat can't quite reach, "taking a shower!" he squeals out. your panties are getting wetter and wetter with every little slip-up you cause.

exoticbutterss: am i tripping or

3-2tomorrow: HE'S GETTING STRAIGHT TEETH LMFAOOO

everyone is thinking the same thing and everyone can hear the slurping noises, but he isn't too concerned with his chat right now.

you keep on giving little kitten licks to his tip and it's driving him up the wall. he wants to be a gentleman, he really does—but he just can't help himself from pushing his hips up and your face down. he's gave up on trying to play properly with one hand, just lets himself get shot down while his doll spazzes out.

not thinking he'll be able to take much more of this, he grabs a fistful of your hair and bobs your head up and down his length to take control. tears begin to well up in your eyes as he pushes his cock further and further down your throat, hardly able to breathe with the speed he's moving at.

y1kesf0rever: is this allowed on here . .

definitely not. which is why he chokes out some bullshit excuse, "she's n-not feeliing too well so i'm ending—mmph.. stream here." and slams his hand down, mashing a few buttons on his pc.

you're finally able to get a bit of air into your lungs as he lunges your head back, "y-you trying to kill me?" he says, his voice hoarse.

"just getting you back for all the times you've killed me."

so..who's winning now?

with him burying his cock deep inside you and your walls gripping him tight enough to cut off his circulation, neither of you are sure.

his balls could burst with how hard he's been holding back, he had refused to let you finish him off from the overwhelming need to have you squirming under him—yet he's moaning more than you are. didn't turn out as well as he expected, but at least he'll have more than enough cum to stuff you full of.

the various plushies scattered around his bed bounce around each time he drives his hips into you, he grabs your thighs to push further and further into your cunt.

"t-this your apology for being such—hhmn—an asshole?" you wouldn't be staying true to yourself if you didn't throw some kind of snarky comment at him even in this situation.

but unlike his usual self he doesn't taunt you, solely focused on how your pussy keeps sucking him back in each time he pulls back, and the borderline pornographic sounds coming from it every time he so much as breathes. who would've guessed that gamer pussy would be this good?

his face is painted with pure bliss, if your eyes weren't so glossy you'd double check if there's any hearts in his. they roll to the back of your head as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over again, you wonder how no one's snatched him up yet—a man with a cock like that is hard to find. even harder to find one that knows how to use it.

you're obsessed with the feeling of his veiny cock dragging along your walls, the longest one so prominent you think you've memorised the exact length and shape of it by now.

"fuuck.. she doesn't want me to—ngh—leave..look at her.." his voice is so raspy you swear you can feel it in your own throat, or maybe it's the consequences of having his dick shoved down it earlier?

the blush on his cheeks decorates his face, you wouldn't be surprised if he started drooling all over you with the way he looks right now. eyes locked onto where your two bodies meet and mouth held open in an 'o' as he pistons his hips in and out of you.

you can feel your orgasm build as he increases the speed of his thrusts, "mm—gonna c—"

"gonna cum?—“ he cuts you off, pleasepleaseplease, wanna feel it.. wanna feel it so bad." he's not sure himself what words are leaving his mouth, his brain occupied with only one goal in mind.

if he could barely take it before, he definitely can't bear it now with the force your walls clamp down on him. he doesn't even recognise the fact he's cumming until he sees it spilling out of your hole, he fucks it right back into you until a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock.

his body topples over onto yours, he stays there a while as you two share labored breaths, pressing a few light pecks to the skin below your collarbones before pulling out and running over to get a towel to clean you up with.

but when he returns you're already asleep, curled up beside his link plushie.

the morning sun is near blinding as you wake up, needing to shield your eyes you lazily roll over onto your other side as your muscles ache as a result of your actions from the night before.

satoru's awake, staring right at you with a smile he tries to hold back. "hey you. you're finally awake." he giggles.

ah. so this is why he's single.

note : i hope at least 1 person catches the ref at the end or at least any reference i put in this lolol